


Shifting into Being

by siyuttov



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Transformation, Gen, Irish Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Pre-Slash, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-15 18:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siyuttov/pseuds/siyuttov
Summary: As a child Bucky thought his mother's stories were only myths. Growing up, they became a source of amusement in hard times. Now they have to power to give him afresh start. If only the corner of the world he chose to make his new home wasn't also inhabited by Tony Stark.





	Shifting into Being

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fluffypanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffypanda/gifts).



> A huge thank you to my amazing beta MagpiWords. I've known her since kindergarten and now she's helping me make sure I make sense :)

James Buchanan Barnes’ family was from Ireland. It was part of what put him in the same Brooklyn slums that allowed him to meet Steve Rogers when they were boys. It was this heritage that inspired his mother to name him after the president whose ancestors had been from the same town as her grandmother. She wanted to keep James’s connection to his heritage as much as possible, including the stories of his own ancestors who had been a part of the spirit world.

Bucky assumed that as he got older, his mom would stop telling him such ridiculous stories, but every time it came up, she swore up and down and crossed herself that it was the only reason their family had survived the Great Hunger with enough money to make it to America. Steve loved hearing the stories and Bucky liked it when Steve was happy, so Bucky would hear them when he stayed for dinner or came back to play at their tenement church on Sundays. They were part of the myths of his childhood. He always thought they would stay that way.

It wasn’t until he was fourteen, after he grew half a foot in a year and his voice was dropping and he woke up one morning with thick, dark fur on his arms that he believe any of it.

His mother, of course, was ecstatic. She had been worried that the move from Ireland to America might have severed their family’s connection to the spirits and the magic of the land.

James thought it was ridiculous, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen his mother so happy. Steve was another thing entirely. They trusted Steve to never tell anyone and he thought it was the most wonderful thing in the world. Over the next few years, they had tested out the limits of his abilities. Having loved dime store science fiction novels, Bucky had hoped he’d be able to turn into lizards and birds, but he was only able to manage mammals. Steve once fell on top of him when he spontaneously turned back from being a horse while Steve had been on his back, which was how they learned that he could only hold animals much bigger than him for a short while. Cats were easiest, which Bucky suspected came from the origins of the pucca.

The transformation also made some things easier for Bucky. When things were especially tight, he would transform into something smaller when he was at home to use less food. When he and Steve moved into their own apartment, he would sleep as a cat at the foot of the bed so they didn’t have to buy another. 

Bucky wasn’t proud of it, but when Steve was sick, Bucky would use his ability to steal medicine and extra food and tell his friend he’d won it boxing.

As the war began in Europe, Bucky was terrified by Steve’s insistence that the States should join with the Allies. It wasn’t like Bucky didn’t agree that Hitler needed to be stopped, but he knew that the second the US joined up, Steve would try to sign up. They registered for the draft together in ‘40, and Bucky found himself praying- for the first time since Sarah had died- that it wouldn’t come to anything.

When word of Pearl Harbor spread through the docks that cold December day, Bucky knew their time had run out. For a while, he had been able to convince Steve not to enlist, since he didn’t want to and they had always done things together. Four months later, his letter came in the mail. After that, there was no stopping Steve, not even after he returned to the apartment with 4F after 4F. Each time he would thank god or Sarah or whoever was listening.

“I got no right to do any less,” Steve would insist, and they would have the same argument again and again until Bucky shipped out.

 

* * *

 

The war was just as ugly as Bucky had feared. Somehow after months of fighting, Steve showing up a foot taller and eager to enter the fight wasn’t even weird. He tried not to think about the torture he had endured, and was grateful that whatever they did to him hadn’t made him transform or stopped him from being able to afterwards. With Steve as his CO, he was even able to use it to help the allies.

It still wasn’t enough to keep him from falling.

 

 

*********

 

It was enough to keep him out of trouble for a long time after D.C.

Another goddamn terrorist had to ruin that too, though.

 

* * *

 

“Stevie, I gotta do this,” Bucky said for what felt like the thousandth time. He needed to know he wouldn’t hurt anyone else before he felt comfortable heading back into the world.

“I don’t understand why you can’t at least stay awake here. I don’t mind waiting around with you,” Steve replied, the fifth different wording of the same idea in the last five minutes. And Bucky knew it was the truth. Steve would do it because of their friendship, and possibly because of some ridiculous guilt over not catching him on that train. It could have even been because of all the times Bucky had stayed at Steve’s bedside in their childhood. Steve had always had a ridiculous sense of justice in the world.

“Which is exactly why you can’t. We don’t know how long I’m going to have those words in my head. You’re my best friend, which is why I refuse to let you put your life on hold for me. This way I don’t have to put my life on hold either, I’ll wake up move on with my life when this is all over. This is what I’m choosing. It’s purely selfish really,” he said with a small smile.

Steve wasn’t even looking at him any more, but at the ground, sullenly. His shoulders slumped after a moment, and Bucky knew he’d finally gotten through to him.

“I’ll see you in no time,” Bucky said, even though he knew it wouldn’t be true.

When the doctor’s worked on removing the remnants of the metal arm the next day he asked Steve to go get him a snack. Once his friend was out of the room, he’d asked his doctors not to wake him up when Steve was around. They were confused at first, but understood and agreed. One of them smiled at him kindly, and she said quietly, “It’s okay to prioritize your recovery James.”

Bucky loved Steve as a brother, but he needed to figure out who he was on his own first. Not even Steve could help with that.

 

* * *

 

The doctors told him he had been on ice for three months.

They’d had a solution a few weeks before, but it had been harder to get Steve to leave than they had anticipated. No shit, Bucky thought. He could have told them that. Luckily, some emergency had come up in Brazil that Steve and Natasha had gone to help out with. Bucky didn’t pay much attention to the details. He just wanted to leave before Steve got back.

Steve was his best friend, but there had been a reason he was hiding out in Romania. He needed space to figure out who he was in this century. He just needed more time on his own. Bucky still had so much blank space in his head where he knew memories belonged. Now that the trigger words were gone, he could go back to working on fixing that. Steve would come after.

He left a note for Steve, asking for his friend to give him space. If he still knew Steve, the punk wouldn’t listen. It was a good thing he had a head start.

On the flight to New York, the pilot asked Bucky what his plan was. Bucky happily told her that he was happy to wing it. She dropped him off in the Green Mountains with a new backpack and an untraceable phone to call if he needed it. Steve and T’Challa’s numbers were already in it.

 

* * *

It only took a few days before Bucky had regretted being dropped off in the wilderness. He thought it wouldn’t be too bad. Early fall meant it was still just warm enough to be comfortable in his clothes, and he could transform into whatever animal he figured out was best when it got cooler. Out here, there were no cameras to catch him and broadcast to the world where he was. Even though he’d been cleared of the bombing, he doubted they would forgive the Soldiers crimes so easily, if Stark’s reaction was anything to go by.

But he was a city boy at heart, so it wasn’t long before he headed south. He figured if he could make it down to Albany, he could hitch a ride to New York and camp out in Central Park for a while.

It was a good plan, and he was somewhere in upstate New York when it went to hell as he woke up to the sound of repulsors overhead.

He was grateful he had already started sleeping as a bobcat, so any heat detection Stark might have had on would go right over him. But why the hell was Stark out here anyway?

Bucky grabbed the backpack in his mouth and took off after Stark. It was a little hard to run with the extra weight at the front of his body and an arm down, but he needed to know if this was the beginning of some search for him. Luckily, it was only a few more miles west before a building came into view.

The Avengers Complex was exactly like he had imagined it would be when Steve had talked about it. Big glass windows, sterile concrete walls, and cameras everywhere. Of course he would end up in the only middle-of-nowhere that Stark would hang around.

Bucky knew it would be smarter to turn and run, but the spy in him wanted to have all the information first. He shifted into his human form just long enough to stash his backpack by some trees before deciding to investigate as a weasel. He would be less conspicuous this way, even if he didn’t like being so low to the ground.

Thankfully, Stark stayed inside the place while he snooped around. Having taken a look, Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted to leave anymore. There was relative safety within the compound. Certainly no more rogue Hydra or Sokovian agents would guess that he would take refuge here. He didn’t have to worry about larger predators at night, and being so close to people meant that if something happened in the world, he would actually hear about it instead of being clueless in the middle of the woods.

He tried not to think too hard about taking advantage of the relative safety provided, albeit inadvertently, by a man whose parents Hydra had used him to kill.

 

* * *

 

Bucky decided on a raccoon for his time at the compound. They were big enough that he didn’t quite feel like vermin, small enough to not really be noticeable, and had decent dexterity for him to take advantage of, even if he only had one hand to do it with.

He watched from afar first to see if there was any kind of routine he could take advantage of. Stark came and went relatively irregularly, but seemed to be spending more and more time around the compound. When he did, he rarely came outside and never in the mornings. Rhodes was here too, and sometimes a woman he vaguely recognized from the news. Bucky wondered what they thought of him. Did they think he deserved to die because of something out of his control? He hoped they understood, that maybe Stark had cooled off a little since Siberia, but he wasn’t about to find out.

Stark seemed to throw out an inordinate amount of food. Bucky guessed it was a side effect of keeping the kitchen fully stocked at all times. A part of him hated the waste, having grown up in the depression, but it meant there was plenty of relatively edible trash for him to scavenge through in the mornings when Stark was either in his workshop or still asleep. A part of Bucky really wanted to scold Stark for the security nightmare that all the floor to ceiling windows were.

It was starting to actually get cold out the first time Stark caught him going through the trash. It was October now, and he was nibbling at the clean end of some half moldy cheese when Stark crash landed on top of the dumpster.

Bucky froze, unsure of the threat until he heard more repulsors, and turned to see Rhodes hovering in the air, faceplate open and head thrown back in laughter.

“You’re really Tony Stank now,” he shouted before turning to fly away again. Bucky wondered what that was about, which distracted him just long enough to feel foolish for not realizing Tony was staring at him.

It took him another few seconds to realize that Tony had no idea who he really was and that was probably why he hadn’t fired at him yet. It also meant he had to act like a raccoon. He was hungry though, and didn’t want to give up the cheese he had found with winter coming so soon. He couldn’t run with cheese in his only good hand, so he shoved it in his mouth and ran off.

When he returned the next day there was a plate with fresh cheese, no mold or hard bits or anything, sitting next to the dumpster. And dammit if that didn’t make him feel conflicted. Stark really was a good guy and Bucky had killed his parents. Fuck.

Bucky ate the cheese quickly and scampered off before he could think too much about it.

He stayed away for a few days and when he came back, there was some kind of little shelter. He walked around it a few times looking for some kind of trap, but he couldn’t find anything. If he got closed in later, he could always change into something smaller to get out. There was some kind of bedding on the inside. It was soft and warm and Bucky hadn’t had soft and warm in months. He really couldn’t be blamed for taking an unscheduled nap.

He woke up with a start at the sound of repulsors landing, and Stark stepped out of his suit and crouched down a few feet away from the shelter.

“He’s really in there?” he asked what Bucky assumed to be either a security person or his AI. Curious, Bucky poked his head out.

“There he is,” Stark said, a smile on his face that Bucky had not expected. “I told Rhodey he’d like the cat shelter.” So that’s what this was. It made sense, and it meant that Bucky wouldn’t have to move south for the winter.

“I brought something else for you,” he continued, pulling a bag of what looked like blueberries out of his pocket. He opened it up and held out the bag. Bucky stared at it suspiciously, but he hadn’t eaten yet that day and he couldn’t really afford to turn down fresh food, not even with the help of the shelter for the winter. Stark shook the bag as if trying to entice him and Bucky rolled his eyes. Now it would just look like that worked.

He hopped out of the shelter a little awkwardly, since the hole was a few inches from the ground on the outside and he had to land on one paw. He moved closer and reached forward with his right hand to grab a few blueberries out of the bag and quickly put them in his mouth. They were the first fresh fruits he’d had in months and they were delicious. Bucky quickly grabbed a few more and was eating them when Stark started laughing, obviously amused.

A bit affronted, Bucky retorted by grabbing the whole bag out of Stark’s loose grip, putting the top in his mouth, and scampering a few feet away.

Stark only laughed louder. “You are a funny little guy, aren’t you,” he said when the laughter had subsided a little. Bucky wished he knew how to properly glare at Stark as a raccoon. Whatever he was doing didn’t work because Stark only chuckled again. “God, you’re just like Rhodey, looking at me like that. I think I’ll call you James. That ought to annoy him.”

It was Bucky’s turn to laugh this time. Of course Stark would call him by his given name. What came out of his mouth was a strange chittering sound.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Stark said smugly. “Stay safe out here little guy. And you’re welcome for the food and the digs.” He stood then, and walked into the building, the suit following him.

Bucky could only shake his head disbelievingly before scampering back to the shelter to finish his blueberries.

 

* * *

 

The shelter ended up making his nights a little easier. The walls around him should have felt claustrophobic, but instead they were warm and soft and everything that cryo wasn’t. It made it easier to remind himself where he was when he woke up, and it hid his shrieking awake from the compound’s cameras.

Every once and a while, he would wake up to find a breakfast snack waiting for him, which helped even more. Food for the Asset had only ever been nutrition, but Tony left croissants and waffles and once even half of a cinnamon roll.

Sometimes he worried that he wasn’t taking time to write down his memories anymore, but they didn’t go away. He knew his brain was finally healing, but he still wasn’t ready to face Steve, so he stayed.

 

* * *

One day in late November, Bucky wobbled out of his shelter, still a little awkward with the drop, and found a little plate waiting for him. There were some large scraps of turkey, a little pile a stuffing, mashed potatoes, and even a little slice of pie. Bucky had never really celebrated Thanksgiving, but he couldn’t help but be grateful for it this year. He started with the turkey and was making his way through the stuffing when the door opened and Tony stepped out.

That had been happening more and more lately. Bucky guessed that Tony’s AI probably alerted him when the camera outside the door showed him eating the food he had left, though sometimes Tony would come outside with the food himself. It was sweet, really, and Bucky was happy for the company. Tony would ramble on about current events and things going on in his life and Bucky wondered if the man wasn’t treating him as some kind of diary. He felt a little guilty about that, but he really was desperate for some human interaction. Plus, every once and a while he’d get an update on how Stevie was doing.

“I got everyone pardoned for what happened after the Accords were signed,” he sighed one day, breaking off bits of bread and tossing them to Bucky. “Given the extenuating circumstances surrounding the raid in Bucharest, and the fact that most of us had only been given about two days warning, it was the least I could do. Rogers still won’t come home though.” It wasn’t that Bucky wasn’t grateful, but he couldn’t help but see how everything still weighed on Tony. He wished he could help, but there wasn’t really much a raccoon could do to offer comfort.

On what Bucky assumed was Christmas, Tony came outside with a little ramp to make it easier to get in and out of the shelter. Bucky chittered back happily and wished he’d had something to give to Tony too.

 

* * *

 

As winter turned into spring, Tony was spending more and more time outside. Bucky was really beginning to worry if the man was depressed. Didn’t he have more friends to spend time with? Rhodey was still coming by sometimes, but the man had a job to do. Pepper only comments on the fact that Tony could adopt an actual pet if he wanted.

“Do you think I should let him inside? James is making a good pet so far,” Tony had teased. Pepper only rolled his eyes, kissed him on the cheek, and gone to her car to ride back to the city.

Now that there wasn’t snow anymore, he could start writing down his memories and thoughts to keep them straight again. A week later, Bucky was coming back from checking on his backpack to find Tony sitting on the ground near the dumpster. He had put a blanket down under him, of course, but he didn’t actually sit down often.

Bucky scampered forward. He figured at this point Tony had given him so much food it wasn’t strange for a raccoon to be so excited to see a person. Sure enough, Tony had a plate next to him with a couple slices of deli meat on it. Bucky grabbed the slice on top and started eating, not bothering to move out of reach of Tony.

“I called Steve this morning,” Tony said, and Bucky froze for a second before he remembered he couldn’t react. Just because Tony called him James didn’t mean he actually knew who Bucky was.

“He sent me the phone ages ago with a lovely if ridiculously overdue apology. I figured it’s been a year now and he’s right that I maybe shouldn’t have overreacted. Sometimes I wake up from nightmares where I did manage to kill Barnes, but it just makes me feel empty inside because I know it wasn’t really his fault, even though he did it. Hell, I’m angrier at Steve than I am at him. And I was ready to apologize back but I still don’t know if I actually want to see the man.”

Bucky deliberately took another bite to give him something to do so hopefully Tony wouldn’t see how stiff he’d gone.

“Luckily, he’s halfway across the world right now. Well, it would be lucky if he wasn’t out there searching for his good ol’ pal Barnes who has apparently been missing for more than half a year. I know it wasn’t his fault but I can’t help but feel like we should know where master assassins are.”

He was shocked. Steve was still looking for him? What the hell was that idiot doing? Surely the Wakandan doctors had told him this is what Bucky wanted. And it was working. Bucky was feeling better every day. As much as he missed Steve, it was helpful not to feel any pressure to fit himself back into the shoes he used to fill.

“Barnes has to be way underground if nobody has a clue where he is.”

Bucky chittered. Tony had no idea.

 

* * *

 

It was another two months before Tony wandered outside dressed not in his usual band tee and jeans, but a three piece suit. Bucky stepped out of his enclosure curiously. He wasn’t very hungry- he rarely was these days due to Tony’s kindness- but he still pretended to be sniffing out treats. It gave him a good excuse to try to figure out why Tony was so dressed up.

He really did look amazing though, not that Bucky would ever admit it even if he had the ability to do so.

Tony set down a cookie, which was a rare treat.

“I need you to be good today,” he said quietly, his eyes scanning the sky. “Important guests coming.” Bucky wondered who. In all the time he’d been here, it had only ever been Pepper and Rhodey who visited.

His thoughts were cut off when the door opened and Steve stepped outside.

“Those new engines really are silent,” Tony muttered. He had turned and reached out to shake Steve’s hand, but Steve wasn’t looking.

Steve’s eyes were locked on Bucky, and Bucky knew immediately that he’d been caught. There was no running away from him this time. And at this point, he felt pretty good about where he was. At least, he thought he might be if Tony was still willing to look him in the eye after this.

He set the half eaten cookie down and scampered forward to greet Steve, who crouched and reached out to pet him.

“Whoa, Rogers. I feed James but who knows what he has from being out here,” Tony warned.

Bucky chittered at that. He met Steve’s eye and nodded before scampering away.  As much as he wanted to greet his friend, he figured Tony wouldn't appreciate the surprise nudity. This time of year the ground should be soft enough to be able to dig out his backpack. Hopefully, Steve wouldn’t completely blow this for him in the meantime.

 

* * *

The sun was setting by the time Bucky made it back to the compound. He was wearing his only clothes, his backpack over one shoulder and his hair a greasy mess. When he got to the guard gate, Tony was already waiting for him. He was still wearing the fancy suit, but Bucky couldn’t help but notice the gauntlet he had over his right hand.

“I didn’t mean to lie to you,” Bucky said quietly as he came to a stop a few feet away. “I was gonna be happy stealing your garbage and laying low until I was ready to go find Steve. The problem is, I was ready a while ago, if I’m being honest. I just didn’t want to leave.”

Tony stared at him, his face unreadable. Bucky had thought he was a good spy, but apparently that training had nothing on someone who could probably win business negotiations in his sleep.

“I’m sorry, Tony. For everything. If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave,” he said. It would kill Bucky a little, but he would do it for him. Tony shook his head, and Bucky was already lifting his foot to turn away when a small smile broke out on Tony’s face.

“I forgave you a long time ago. And if you want it, I’ve got digs a few steps up from a cat shelter for you. Steve wanted them ready in case you ever showed up. He was a few months late on that one though, wasn’t he James?”

Bucky smiled back despite himself. “You really don’t have to keep calling me that.” James was the name he’d been given, first by his ma to keep him connected to home, and then by Tony, who thought he was a raccoon and was just trying to annoy his best friend. It was a good name, but it wasn’t really his.

“Call me Bucky.”


End file.
